


there's a slut in that box!

by aroray



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Glory Hole, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, just a lot of blowjobs, no excuses just glory(hole)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroray/pseuds/aroray
Summary: Ray has a handful of bad habits too hard to break --he's not willing to break.Nobody in the crew gets involved (as far as they know).It's clean (figuratively). It's fine (sure).





	there's a slut in that box!

So maybe Ray’s made a few bad decisions in life.

Slumming it in Los Santos isn’t exactly a hard lifestyle to pursue though; you don’t go looking for it. It comes to you. To be fair, Ray supposes he could’ve come out of this living just a bit more high end, what with a couple hundred grand in the bank now and all, but old habits are hard to break.

That’s what he keeps reiterating to himself - internally, anyhow - as he finds himself on the wrong streets in town again and again. Not for a job, either. 

Sure, he goes back to his crew (usually). 

He always returns home safe (enough). 

Therefore, there’s nothing to worry about (yeah right).

Jack would probably say it’s more of an inevitability than a unfortunate accident then, when a night out leaves Ray blacked out. He loses five hours, his wallet, his glasses, and probably what’s left of his dignity for good measure.

To clarify, that isn’t any deviation from the norm. What’s next is:

Ray wakes up, and all he sees is concrete.

The room looks like what a cell would be if a prison had a budget cut of a couple thousand and then downgraded two tiers further. In other words, he can’t even go piss. He is less bothered by the fact that there is no apparent exit save for a miserable-looking door in the far corner with no window that is definitely locked.

Ray sighs, the world still more or less swimming in front of him. All his belongings are gone. Again.

“They’re going to murder me,” he mutters as he attempts to stand and fails. 

He’s not even sure if that door is actually a door or if it’s an abnormally large smear on the wall. There is however, a smaller smudge closer to him. It’s approximately at eye level. Ray squints, opts to crawl instead. 

“Oh,” he says.

It’s a hole in the wall - quite literally. 

Ray attempts to peek through and manages to take in a shabby couch and a hip (a hip?) before he gets jabbed in the eye by a dick for his trouble. (Oh. A hip.) He jerks backwards a little too fast, fails to balance and lands hard on his back. “... Ow,” he says, blandly, staring upwards into the shadowy, blurry beyond.

It takes him several long seconds to process the ramifications of a locked room, a hole in the wall, and a dick sticking through it. When it finally clicks into place, he makes a noise of understanding out loud. Then a(n overly casual) noise of horror. Then he chews on his lip for a second, further considering the state of things, and realizes he’s pretty turned on by the whole probably-gonna-die, cement cell, ominous gloryhole combination. Well, that’s- new, sure, but not totally unusual.

He props himself up on his elbows and stares at the dick.

It looks pretty stupid just sticking through the wall like that, but also kind of tempting? Maybe that’s just Ray. It absolutely does not remind him of any kind of anything he might have done with anyone’s dildo suction cupped to a wall and doesn’t make his dick twitch in his pants in association.

“You’re not gonna do this, Ray,” he lies to himself. “You have limits. Standards.”

Then he sits up and shuffles closer, leans in, and wraps his fingers around the girth of the dick one by one. It twitches in his hand and he resists the urge to lick his lips. The person on the other side of the wall gives an impatient thrust of his hips. “Okay, okay, don’t get testy,” Ray mutters, continuing to pretend he has any kind of control over himself or the situation whatsoever. Then he pauses. “Haha. Testes.”

He thinks the person on the other side of the wall probably heard that because they start pulling away. “Hey no no nonono- I’ll put it in my mouth I’ll shut up hang on.” 

The cock returns. Pleased, shifting his weight onto his knees, Ray parts his lips and takes the dick into his mouth. His tongue passes briefly across the underside of the head and he almost laughs when he feels the man shudder. Instead, he opts to brush his hair back with his free hand as he forces himself down as far as he can, choking a little as he feels the cock hit the back of his throat. Ray reminds himself to breathe shallowly through his nose as he holds himself there for a moment.

He desperately wants to press a hand into his hardening dick, doesn’t know why he’s not except that it might be a blow to his pride? (He doesn’t have any. Who is he kidding, it’s a kink thing. It’s definitely a kink thing.) He pushes forward further an increment, feels his air cut off, stays there until his head is spinning and only barely pulls back off.

_ Fuck, I’m a goddamn slut,  _ he thinks. Head still light, he swallows. He feels a trickle of precum leak into his mouth and his eyes flutter shut.  _ Yeah, fuck it. _

He bobs once, more experimentally than anything, but the other man apparently decides in that moment that he’s had enough, thrusting into Ray’s mouth viciously. Ray gags in surprise, tears springing from the corners of his eyes, but doesn’t pull away. He grapples for a hold as the man continues to fuck into him without pause, the length gliding across the top of his tongue and bumping against the roof of his mouth. It startles him when he leans forward into the facefuck and his nose and lips meet concrete. Both hands pressed against the wall for leverage, Ray groans around the cock, the noise hoarse and cut off every time it thrusts down into his throat.

The vibrations seem to do it, because the taste of cum fills Ray’s mouth only a handful of moments later. He coughs, a tear tracking its way down one cheek, and slowly pulls away, licking the length as he slides the softening dick out of his mouth with a soft  _ pop. _

Smoothing his thumb over the slit, Ray brings the remaining bead up to his lips and swallows, shuddering. 

It occurs to him that nobody asked him to do this. Not in words, anyway.

Ray falls back on his ass, legs trembling a little from the prior exertion. He regrets that as he winces, remembering that oh yeah, he’s in a fucking cement cell, goddamn dumbass. He also needs to get in shape. The words come to mind in the condescending chide of a voice that is definitely not familiar, and definitely not usually reserved for a man by the name of Gavin Free. Ray doesn’t let himself mull over the implications of this. He doesn’t let himself mull over anything at all.

The room is dead quiet and void of dick for longer than Ray would like.

He’s in the middle of contemplating just, like, lining up his mouth with the hole and opening up - and nearly ready to cream himself with the mere concept of it - when the sound of a deadbolt latch jolts him to attention. Feeling triumphant, Ray shifts to sit as naturally as possible while hiding his hard-on like yes, of course the room was locked he definitely had no chance to escape to begin with and he is definitely not turned on by this situation in the least.

A man walks in with a laugh on his lips, assessing Ray’s curled up figure. “Hey buddy,” he says, as though they’re meeting up for a casual conversation over coffee. “What’s up?”

Ray’s eyes go straight to the front of the man’s jeans and he turns red as his gaze is followed. He snaps his head up, an apology already tumbling off his tongue, but a quick blow to the face immediately fixes that - Ray gasps in shock, tumbling over sideways and collapsing on his hands and knees. “Wh- I-” Ray stutters, clutching his stinging cheekbone. 

Falling down into a crouch in front of him, the man explains calmly: “I asked you a question. You didn’t answer it.”

Ray groans at the deep voice. So much for that. He immediately attempts to masks it with a whine and that, in hindsight, was not much better. He almost says  _ what’s up isn’t really a question  _ like a smart-ass, Instead, “I’m doing fine. I’m uh- yeah. Great. Thanks. You?” 

He is promptly ignored, which Ray finds deeply unfair. “You forget how to use your legs?” The man says, and Ray can’t decide if he pissed the guy off.  Probably.  Maybe he should have just put his mouth against the wall. Ray can’t decide if  _ he’s  _ pissed, either. He has the brilliant idea to speak his mind for once anyways.

“Wasn’t aware I needed to stand to give a guy a blowjob,” he retorts, flinching at a hit that doesn’t come. “You’d think you would know, given that you put me up to this bullshit.”

Amused, the man leans in closer as Ray jerkily recovers from his fall. He grips Ray by the chin, contemplative, and yanks him forward to whisper in his ear - “who put who up to what?” Ray’s eyes widen, a shudder ripping its way through his body. WIthout thinking, he tries to tilt his head away and whimpers when he’s met with resistance. The man’s breath is hot on his neck and so, so close.

A louder whimper escapes Ray’s mouth once he feels lips brush against his throat. He leans into the sensation, head fuzzy.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” He hears himself apologizing again, and without even being sure he confesses, “I did, it was me, Please don’t stop holy shit…”

The man is breathing more heavily now. He nips at Ray’s jaw and runs a hand under Ray’s shirt, muttering something about how ridiculously small he is. Ray realizes he’s still more high than he thought, because he’s suddenly on sensory overload. There’s pressure on his tender cheek, lips on his chest (where did his shirt go?) and there are hands everywhere - running over his ribs; on the small of his back; against his ass; on his dick over his jeans.

It all gets taken away in the next second.

The man rocks back on his heels. “Sorry, got a little carried away,” he admits, cupping Ray’s dismayed face in his hands. “Anyways, I’m not a fucking asshole. You look like you’re coming down and I have some x on me, but if you wanna leave you can go.” He jerks his head towards the door. “Your jacket is on the bench outside.”

Ray just stares and struggles to catch his breath, aware that he likely looks remarkably debauched and is in no shape to walk home. The better part of him reasons that he could probably fix himself up in a washroom or something. Call someone to pick him up. Sleep. 

The rest of him focuses on the small white tablet the man is producing from his back pocket.

Ray pretends to think for a moment, his face hot. Looking away, he says, “No, I- yeah, no.”

“What was that?”

Louder, “I’ll stay.” Ray doesn’t wait for a reply as he snatches a pill out of the other man’s outstretched hand and immediately swallows it dry. His skin prickles, insides slowly starting to buzz. Dick twitching in his pants, he moans.

Satisfied,the man puts his coarse hands on Ray again. “I- I-” Ray is stuttering. The man pays him no regard, leaning in to shut him up with his lips. Ray wants to say he fucking minds, but it comes out as a whimper into the other’s mouth; something that sounds a lot more like begging. Ray’s fingers finally inch towards his zipper. 

“Now, now,” Ray hears. “Let’s not do that.”

He cries out as the warmth leaves him, arms suddenly being jerked back. He was so fucking close to coming. Just a touch, a goddamn flick - Biting down a shriek of frustration, he flails in the grip of his captor (listen, it’s hotter if he thinks of it that way) to no avail - before he could register it fully, his still hurting cheek is being ruthlessly smashed against the cold floor. The metallic, heartless sound of handcuffs clicking into place comes a heartbeat later. Protesting, Ray fumbles for words. “Wait, this isn’t what we- I didn’t agree to this!”

A loud, deep laugh. “Buddy, you haven’t really  _ disagreed _ either.” 

Cheekbone throbbing again, Ray turns over onto his back and struggles upright. He glares venomously upwards, tries to paint his face as full of disbelief as humanly possible. Gets a pitying look for his effort and a nudge to his tented pants in return. It sucks. It really fucking sucks. Abandoning whatever pride he has left - and entering the negatives in regards to dignity - Ray wiggles his narrow hips suggestively, eyes drooping to half-lidded. His body is so hot he wants to die more than usual. He really does lick his lips this time, ignoring (or relishing) the way the handcuffs are digging into the flesh on the inside of his wrists. “You gonna fuck me now, old man? Come on, pull your dick out. What are you waiting for?”  

“You wish. Slut.”

The words make Ray jolt; he certainly wasn’t expecting that. Suddenly panicked, he pitches himself forward. Voice hiking up to a pathetic whine, he pleads, “You can’t leave me like this. Y- God, I- please fuck me. Just fuck me. Or untie me so I can do it myself I promise you’ll feel good-” He falls forward into the man’s crotch, knees hurting. Mouths at the front of his jeans in a haze of lust. “I want- please- give me your cock? Please?” 

The man just laughs, ruffles Ray’s hair almost affectionately. 

“You’re not good enough.”

Ray closes his eyes, inhales sharply, and then he’s alone again. The disappointment is almost palpable in the dingy air.

Tilting until he thumps down flat on his back, Ray turns his head to the side. “Just me and you now,” he tells the gloryhole, because that’s what it is, really. “Juuuuust you and me.” He recognizes that the ecstasy is stronger than he is usually used to. Maybe it’s a concoction of something more, whatever, doesn’t particularly matter. What  _ matters _ is how much precum he’s leaking, and how short of fucking the less than promising concrete floor, he’s not going to be able to get off in the foreseeable future. 

Just to be clear, he has enough pride left not to fuck the goddamn floor. He thinks so, at least. Hopes so.

“Shit,” Ray hisses, writhing in his cuffs. 

There are footsteps in the other room again that make him freeze, an idea slowly forming. Stumbling to his feet with much difficulty - the man was right, he might as well have forgotten how they work - he tentatively says, “Hey, anyone wanna uh. Do me a favour? Just- this is fucking weird but. Oh, fuck it. Just pull my zipper down, could you? I’ll figure it out from there.”

No reply.

Getting increasingly desperate, Ray blurts out, “I’ll even let you fuck me,” without more than a second’s worth of consideration. Fucking oops. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Ray swears when he hears the familiar voice. “It’s not like you’re keen on helping me out,” he all but shouts. “Fuck, you can’t give me x and then fucking, leave me here -”

The man’s voice is mild. “To my knowledge, you consented to this.”

“Well, uh, I mean, y…”

“Did I force you to take that drug?”

“N-”

“And Jesus, I never expected you to take a mouthfucking like that. You have a choking kink, huh? Like to feel filthy and used like a true slut? No other reason why you’d still be here. Sure, you came on to me in the street high out of your mind but oh, you know. I didn’t think you’d be  _ this  _ bad. I even gave you a chance to leave.”

Ray didn’t think he could feel any more humiliated. (He’d be into it if he could, but.)

The man’s voice goes soft and mocking. “Some people are just suited for this kind of thing.”

In some faint corner of Ray’s mind not dominated by his dick, he wonders how the man knew about the way he gave that blowjob. He did say Ray didn’t deserve him, so it couldn’t have been him -- two and two click together in Ray’s head. He pulls back from the hole slowly.  _ He’s being filmed. _

He must’ve let out a moan, because there’s a snicker. “Yeah? Figure it out yet?” He can’t believe how turned on he is right now. This has to be a new low.

Now armed with the newfound knowledge that there is definitely someone either jacking it to him giving gloryhole blowjobs either in real time or in the not so distant future, Ray is left truly considering grinding against the floor or wall until he cums. Then, “Hey slut. Client is here. Treat them well, alright?” Ray nods until he remembers nobody can see him; he starts to vocalize agreement before hold up a fucking second, they  _ can _ see him.

“What’s the point of a duct-tape hole in the wall for anonymity if there’s a camera?” Ray mutters as he falls to his knees again. He doesn’t expect a reply. He doesn’t get one, either.

In the next hour? Two hours? Five? Ray comes to learn that it’s considerably harder to effectively suck cock when you have next to no balance and, to his (very, very masked) delight, incredibly easier to choke himself on one. Listen, it’s not easy to pull yourself off a dick without snapping it when you have no hands available. So Ray mostly...doesn’t. 

He finds that it’s just as effective to deepthroat someone and bob, letting gravity do its thing. Not that Ray ever passed physics in any form. Leverage. It’s a thing, right? It’s demeaning and hot as hell and  _ perfect _ . Ray doesn’t think he’s ever had the sensation of cum sliding down the back of his throat quite like this before, and he figures no one would be proud of him for not having a clue how many dicks he’s sucked tonight. He’s not particularly proud of that fact. But his nether regions disagree. Vehemently. 

As “business” dies down, Ray’s eyes begin to feel irritated from the haze of tears and there’s at least two splats of cum on his face that he can’t wipe off. The same goes for the stuff dribbling down his chin and dripping onto the floor. He doesn’t even know where the camera  _ is.  _ Doesn’t know if he wants to shield himself from it or give it a better angle to catch him from.

He’s just catching his breath when there’s suddenly more movement at the gloryhole, and he makes a biting motion at it in annoyance. The sound of his teeth clicking and hiss of air make the offending dick retreat in alarm at record speed. Ray figures, he’s not a professional by any measure. “This is amateur hour,” he hisses more to himself than anyone. “Let me rest or get me  _ off _ , goddamn it.”

Most of his statement is completely plowed over by a loud, exasperated, and worst of all,  _ familiar _ “I THOUGHT YOU SAID THERE WAS A SLUT IN THIS BOX, NOT A FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT ASSHOLE,” and the chain of events after this point in time gets muddled. Some portions are clear, however.

He clams up immediately, lips sealed as firmly shut as that time when Ryan insisted he had to pick up a call in the middle of sex and proceeded to have casual, lovely conversation with his  _ mother _ , all the while fucking Ray so hard he had trouble walking the day after. 

Then, against all better judgement - really, was there any left? Really - Ray hobbles closer to the wall on his knees and rolls his hips against it a couple times, waiting for the guy to stick his dick back in again.

“Hm, he’s unnaturally quiet,” Ray hears his captor remark. “He’s usually begging for it, should’ve heard him at the beginning of the night.” 

“Yeah?” The newcomer snaps back. “Doesn’t seem like it now, does it?”

Ray, blushing a furious red, listens as they argue back and forth and finally, the tip of a dick peeks through on his side. Groaning, Ray immediately latches onto it, his lips sliding over the head, precum slicking down the length with an obscene noise. Instead of asking ‘why are you here,’ he teasingly licks along the throbbing vein down to the thin wisps of brown hair lining the end of the shaft. Instead of ‘it’s me you’re mouthfucking, you asshole,’ he swallows the cock down as far as it can go, face brushing dangerously close to the edges of the gloryhole and the other side. 

The man’s thighs tremble violently from the other side and the haphazard movement makes Ray retch, eyes rolling back; the cock already lays heavy on his tongue, but the aborted movement stops up his air supply completely and he just takes it like the whore he is. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ray swallows once, twice. The dick twitches in his mouth.

“Come on, come on.” An impatient mutter. “Can I- listen I don’t know how this motherfucking works. Dude didn’t give me a handbook on sex holes, alright? I’m- I’m gonna move now.”

Choking back a laugh at ‘sex holes,’ Ray hums in fierce approval as he feels the length of the cock glide against the walls of his mouth, emptying it, before slamming back in ruthlessly again, and again, and again. Ray gives up on breathing through his nose almost entirely immediately, stealing ragged half-breaths whenever he can. It leaves him lightheaded and dazed, tongue going slack, but he gathers enough of himself to hollow out his cheeks and give a decent blowjob with minimal effort, crying openly as he’s violently facefucked. His body jerks back and forth with the thrusts as they come; his knees are burning deliciously. The front of his jeans feels cold and damp.

The filthy combination of choking noises and slicked wetness fill Ray’s ears, punctuated by groaning (the man) and pathetic, wheezy whines (Ray) for what seems like an eternity. 

When cum finally fills Ray’s mouth and starts trickling down his throat, he’s filled with a sense of panic. His eyes shoot wide open with the realization that he can’t leverage himself off the dick and he really, really can’t breathe. Making muffled, fearful noises around the cock in his mouth, he pleads for the man to pull away. It’s left unnoted.

For twenty long, agonizing seconds, Ray realizes that he might actually die choking on Michael’s cock, his insides sloshing with cum. Heat lazily coils in his gut. Then there’s a burning sensation in his nose followed by a sudden cold emptiness in his open mouth as he comes at the revelation, shaking violently. He sees nothing but blinding whiteness as he feels the cum dribble disgustingly slowly from inside his boxers and down the length of his thigh.

Michael’s cum dripping from his nose and smeared across his bruised lips, Ray hits the floor passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Back in the penthouse:
> 
> Michael: "Some fuckhead clocked my dick last night"  
> Jack: "In the dick region? Or like...specifically...your dick"  
> Ray, internally: oh fucking HELL  
> Ray, externally: definitely just fucking groans  
> Michael, staring at Ray's bruised lips: "Yeah...y"


End file.
